


Exchanges

by BaronVonChop



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Legacy Era - All Media Types
Genre: Coping, F/M, Growing Old Together, Married Couple, Old Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 14:01:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1690865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaronVonChop/pseuds/BaronVonChop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Decades after they helped overthrow the Empire, Han and Leia spend some time together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exchanges

**Author's Note:**

> This story is my way of saying goodbye to the EU while looking forward to the new movies.

The voice of Imperial City Control came over the headset: “You are cleared for final approach. Welcome to Coruscant, Captain Solo.”

“Thanks,” Han Solo replied. Surprised at how sarcastic he sounded, he tried to put more enthusiasm into it. “It’s good to be back.” Now he just sounded tired. Han frowned, flicked the switch to cut the signal, and guided the Millennium Falcon down onto the landing pad.

Han flipped the series of switches that started the shutdown sequence, and he leaned back in the captain’s chair as the ship powered down. He closed his eyes and listened. The sounds of the ship were as familiar to him as the sounds of his own body, and in recent years he paid more attention to both.

He breathed in, held it, and exhaled slowly, feeling like his body was powering down along with the ship. These long hyperspace trips were really starting to take a lot out of him. There had been a time when he and Chewie had flown all around the galaxy, taking turns with one person in the cockpit while the other rested in the bunks. When things got dicey, he could even get by on short naps in the captain’s chair while staying one step ahead of pirates and bounty hunters. Now, Han’s back ached from the hard cot in the sleeping section, and he longed for the ergonomic comfort of the bed he shared with Leia in their apartment.

When the Falcon had grown quiet, Han grunted as he pushed himself up from his chair. As he left the cockpit, he patted the doorframe, and for a moment the gesture reminded him of touching the head of a sleeping child. _Well, let her sleep,_ he thought.

The ramp that led down from the ship felt like it had grown steeper lately. He remembered dashing up and down it a thousand times, exchanging fire with Imperials as Chewie prepped the engines. Han watched his step as he made his way down, careful not to stumble in front of his welcoming committee.

The welcoming committee, it turned out, consisted of Leia and a single, green-skinned Mirialan. _What did you expect, old man?_ he chided himself. _You were mapping a shortcut for a hyperspace route, not blowing up a Death Star._

He walked toward Leia, feeling a smile flow onto his face as her presence washed away his weariness. She stepped toward him and they embraced.

“Welcome home, Han.” Leia took a step back. She studied him with her smile still tugging the corners of her mouth. He could not help but notice how the wrinkles clustered around her lips, and that made him want to bend down and kiss her. “Was your mission a success?”

“Yeah. The Mirialans should now have a faster, safer route to their colony on Raavi III.”

The Mirialan with Leia spoke up. “Our senator asked me to congratulate you on the success of your mission and to convey to you her gratitude. I am Palanda Muo, one of the Senator’s aides.”

Han struggled not to let his disappointment show. _I guess the senator is not so grateful that she’d bother to show up herself._

Leia frowned, but Palandra seemed not to notice. “I was so excited when I heard it was you on this mission! I know you are not officially working for the New Republic any more, but there is no-one in the galaxy better suited for this type of work.”

Han raised his eyebrows at Leia, who gave an embarrassed smile. Palandra, oblivious, chattered on. “Of course, I’m sure that mapping hyperspace routes seems a little dull to someone who’s used to the excitement of taking on the Empire!”

“Excitement, huh?”

Before Han could say anything else, Leia got on her tiptoes and kissed him again. “My hero.” She turned to Palandra. “Please tell Senator Araluu that Han was happy to be of service.”

Palandra got the hint. “I’m sure the two of you would like to catch up. Well, it was a real pleasure to meet you, Captain Solo!” She turned and hurried off.

Leia gave a short laugh and shook her head. “You have to forgive Palanda. She’s a little young.”

“She didn’t look that young to me. What is she, thirty?”

“Yes, around there.” Leia quirked her lips. “Of course, you realize that means the second Death Star was destroyed before she was born.”

Han’s mouth fell open. When he recovered, he muttered, “I guess that really puts things into perspective, huh? So, are you wrapped up for the day?”

He could tell what her answer was going to be from the way she avoided his eyes. “I’m sorry. I need to go back over the draft of a trade proposal that we’re presenting tomorrow. Don’t worry, I’ll see you at dinner. I’ve already made reservations at a nice Ithorian place. But I really need to get back to this draft. I’m sorry, Han.”

Han kissed her cheek. “It’s all right. I need to track down some replacement parts for the Falcon anyway. They’re getting harder to find every year, but I still know a few guys here on Coruscant who should have what I’m looking for.”

“Just as long as you don’t have to go anywhere too dangerous to find those parts.” Leia studied his expression.

Han avoided her eyes. “Well, it’s not like you can just order parts for a YT-1300 out of a catalog.” Truth be told, his contacts were not as dangerous as he was making them out to be. He liked having Leia think of him as someone with shady contacts, but in reality he was long out of touch with the Coruscant underworld.

Maybe Leia could sense his thoughts through the Force, or maybe she just didn’t feel like arguing. “All right, but be careful. You’re not as young as you used to be.”

“Yeah. I know.” As though he needed reminding.

* * *

Perhaps he stayed out longer than he had to, navigating the dark, dripping streets below the spires of Coruscant. He nearly got into a fight when he called a Gran parts dealer a liar for claiming a hyperdrive motivator from a Dynamic-class freighter would work in a YT-1300.

Han waved the motivator in the Gran’s three-eyed face. “If I were to install this in my ship, it would burn out within a month.”

The Gran shrugged. “So what? A YT-1300 is always breaking down anyway.”

When Han grabbed the Gran’s collar with his free hand, the dealer raised his hands in surrender. “Easy there, Captain Solo. I don’t want any trouble with the New Republic.”

Han released the Gran, feeling foolish. He mumbled an apology, put down the component, and left. _You don’t want trouble with the New Republic,_ Han sulked. _But you’re not afraid of me._

* * *

Han had several unanswered calls from Leia on his comlink by the time he arrived at their apartment. When the door opened, Leia rose from the couch and hurried over to him. She was already dressed to go out, in a long, dark red skirt and a cream-colored shirt of fine Alderaanian cotton, from a world settled by survivors of the first Death Star. “There you are. Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you.”

Han was in no mood for a lecture. “Some of those parts were hard to find, and the people selling them don’t take kindly to being rushed.” _Neither do I,_ he wanted to add, but he bit back the remark.

“You didn’t need to find every part this afternoon.” Leia steeled her voice, and Han sensed from years of marriage that she was getting ready for an argument.

“I didn’t find every part,” Han shot back. He felt himself being drawn into the argument like a starship slipping into a gravitational tide. “I’m going to have to keep looking tomorrow.”

“Great. Well, tonight, I need you dressed. Hurry up.” Leia had already chosen his outfit for the evening: a dark green, military-style dress shirt with black trousers. Han decided to lay aside the simple moth-shaped Bith tie Leia had selected and went instead with a semi-gelatinous Mon Calamari tie that had been a present from Lando. The moment of defiance evaporated quickly when he needed Leia’s help to tie the complicated series of demi-knots.

* * *

The hammerheaded Ithorian maître d' did not breathe a word about them being late. He welcomed them in stereo from the mouths on either side of his curving neck, then walked them to their table past trees growing from islands of dirt built into the restaurant floor. High above, birds called to one another, and Han thought he saw a simian lizard swinging among the branches near the ceiling.

Han needed Leia’s help to order, so that when their food arrived, he was relieved to see a beautiful steak next to the plate holding Leia’s salad. When Leia pointed out that his steak was actually some sort of gourd, it did not taste any less delicious.

When they had finished tasting their own food as well as each other’s, Leia asked, “So, how was your mission?”

Han sipped from his wineglass. “It went all right.”

Leia could tell he had more to say, so she just replied, “That’s good,” and waited for Han to fill the silence.

Han leaned back in his chair. “Mapping hyperspace routes is pretty straightforward: you fly through an unexplored region of space and see if you can dodge hazards from one end to the other so that other ships can follow the same path. Mostly I hope for a boring trip, and this one was pretty boring.”

“You sound disappointed. There’s nothing wrong with a boring mission.” Leia’s face and voice projected calm, and Han wondered if she was using a Jedi technique on him.

If she was, he didn’t feel like being calmed. “I guess this is all I’m good for now.” His voice grew bitter. “I’ve gone from overthrowing the Empire to mapping routes so that some hyperspace travel companies can increase their profit margins.”

“You can’t expect to save the galaxy all the time,” Leia said, her voice quiet. Her eyes found his, as fierce and honest as on the day he met her on the first Death Star’s detention level. “We’ve done enough, and suffered enough. Let someone else worry about saving the galaxy.”

Han couldn’t look at her, so he glared sullenly at his vegetable steak instead, stabbing it with his fork and knife as if he held it responsible for his woes. “Maybe we didn’t do enough. Maybe we wouldn’t have suffered as much if we had done more.”

“Like what?” asked Leia, her voice imploring. Han raised his eyes and had to drop them again when he saw the intensity with which she was looking at him. “What else could we have done?”

Han stuffed a chunk of steak into his mouth and chewed. “I don’t know,” he mumbled around the food.

Leia’s sigh was an eloquent statement in exhaustion. He could see her calm facade start to break, the lines around her eyes and mouth deepening as she reached across the table and laid her hand over his. “You’re here, safe, with me. Can’t that be enough?”

Han realized that she hadn’t been trying to calm him down: she had been working to keep her own emotions under control. He saw a tear escape the corner of her eye, and she wiped it away irritably with her other hand, muttering something under her breath. Han didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.” It sounded inadequate even to him. “It just gets me down sometimes. We could save the galaxy, but not our closest friends and family.”

Leia took her hand away. “You’re impossible sometimes.” She ate faster, as though eager to get the dinner over with.

Han didn’t reply.

They ate quietly. Sometimes, Han would look up and open his mouth as though to say something, but Leia would raise her eyes to look at him, and Han would close his mouth again.

Then Leia’s communicator beeped. “Excuse me,” she said, stepping away from the table. Han watched mournfully as she went, feeling sorry for himself.

Han had already finished his dinner when she returned. “I’m sorry, Han,” she said. Her eyes met his briefly, then looked down at the table. “They’re moving the trade negotiations up to tomorrow morning.”

Han felt the anger swelling in his chest. He didn’t even know who Leia was meeting with, but he hated them anyway. “So what does that mean?” he asked, his throat tight.

“I have to go back to the office tonight to finish preparing.” Leia’s voice trembled only slightly as she spoke. She still couldn’t look at him. “This trade agreement are very important for the New Republic. We have been preparing for these negotiations for weeks.” She looked up at him, and he could see her fatigue in the lines on her face.

Han slouched back in his chair, defeated. “All right. Go. The New Republic needs you.” _I need you, too,_ he thought, _but if it’s a choice between me and the New Republic, I don’t want to know who would win._

* * *

Han was already asleep when Leia arrived at their apartment. When she finally climbed into bed with him, she lifted the blanket and slipped underneath, trying not to disturb him.

Sometime in the night, he half-woke from sleep when she snuggled up against him, placing her hand on his chest and resting her head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head and fell back asleep.

* * *

It felt so good to sleep in a real bed again that he overslept. He could see the living room window through the open bedroom door, and the the sun was already climbing through the fluffy Coruscant clouds.

As he got up and got dressed, he found a note from Leia on a datapad on his dresser. She had left early to set up the meeting, and hoped to be home in time for dinner.

Part of Han was grateful that he had some time before he had to face her again. It might give him a chance to straighten out his thoughts.

* * *

After breakfast, Han took a flying taxi down to a market crowded with parts of spaceships ranging from tiny microfuses to stripped hulls. From above, the market looked like a twisting labyrinth, but once he was on the ground, the goods were packed so high that Han felt like he was in a series of tunnels. Merchants and droids hawked their wares, promising impossible performance boosts from obsolete parts polished to a mirror shine.

Han wound his way to a market stall run by a small, furry Chadra-Fan. Three teenage swoop jocks in bright neon clothes loitered around the stall, their hands thrust into their pockets as they disparaged the merchant’s goods. One of the swoop jocks, a gangly Devaronian with dark horns curving from his forehead, picked up a phase inducer, scoffed, and tossed it roughly back into a bin.

“Please,” the bat-faced Chadra-Fan squeaked, “if you’re not going to buy anything, please leave me alone.”

“You want to get rid of us? I’m hurt,” drawled one of the other jocks, a bald Duros with bulbous red eyes and blue skin. “You should be flattered that we’re wasting our time looking through this junk.”

Han glared at the youths, but he didn’t like the odds. He ignored the youths and stepped over to the merchant. “Do you have any negative power couplings compatible with a YT-1300 stock light freighter?”

“I think I might. Let me check,” the merchant replied, trying to keep one eye on the swoop jocks while he rummaged through his wares.

“A YT-1300?” scoffed the third jock, a near-human with pinkish skin and a shock of bright blue hair. “Who do you think you are, Han Solo or something?”

The other two laughed, and the Devaronian added, “Yeah, right, Tok. Han Solo’s dad, maybe.”

The blue-haired youth named Tok took a step closer to Han. “A YT-1300 belongs in a museum, and so do you. Me, I’ve been working on a Loviad Salvo.” The teenager reached into his pack and pulled out a brand new power converter. “Check this out. I just picked it up this morning, at a real supplier, not a junk shop like this one.”

Han eyed the gleaming component. “Is that the new Cyxstem P7?”

“Top of the line,” Tok boasted, sticking out his chest. The Devaronian and the Duros grinned at each other.

Han let out a low whistle. “That’s a nice piece of hardware. If you’re lucky, it may only drop your output by about 15% below stock levels.”

All three youths’ mouths dropped for a moment, but Tok recovered and glared at Han. “The latest issue of Swoops and Starships listed this is the best power converter on the market.”

Han gave a lazy half-smile and leaned casually on a shelf laden with console switches. “It sure is, for a ship about twice the size of your Loviad. You’ve got a twenty-channel power converter for a twelve-channel ship. Sorry, kid.”

The young man’s face fell while his friends gave nervous laughs. Han rolled his eyes and sighed. Leia always wanted to help people, even the ones with difficult personalities. Han had never understood Leia’s decision, but now he found himself taking pity on the kid. “Tell you what you can do.” He picked up a phase inducer from a pile on a shelf and turned to the Chadra-Fan. “I’m sure you’ve got some Sienar ion regulators. Standard C size should do.”

The Chadra-Fan eyed the boys warily. “I might.”

Han raised his eyebrows at Tok. The youth turned to his friends, unsure, but the other two were suddenly busy inspecting the ground. Tok turned back to the Chadra-Fan. “I would really appreciate it if you could check for some Sienar ion regulators.” He paused, and the Chadra-Fan waited, his round black eyes unreadable. Tok added, “Please?”

The merchant hiccuped, the Chadra-Fan equivalent of a grunt. “I’ll look around.”

When the little merchant produced the item, Han took both the phase inducer and the ion regulator and held them up so that all three youths could see. They gathered around, their faces expectant. Han demonstrated, “See, what you do is, you cut the heads off the regulator and insert them into the unused channels on the Cyxstem P7. Then you feed those channels through the phase inducer and back into the power converter. You should get back a good 60% of the energy you otherwise would have wasted. Not a bad deal, for parts that will only cost you maybe a hun-” Han paused at the Chadra-Fan’s indignant squeak. “Two hundred credits.”

The youths combined their pocket money and paid the Chadra-Fan.

“Thanks for your help,” said Tok, as his Duros and Devaronian friends waited by the edge of the shop, eager to get going. “And I’m sorry about what I said earlier.”

“Yeah,” Han said, waving a hand. “Don’t worry about it. But take my advice, stop wasting your money on that Swoops and Starships subscription and get a job at a garage for a few months instead.” As Tok turned to join his friends, Han added, “And maybe stop hassling shop owners.”

Tok waved back as he left. “Thanks for the advice, sir!”

As he bought the power coupling he needed from the Chadra-Fan, Han was feeling pretty good.

He didn’t even mind the “sir.”

* * *

He met Leia back at their apartment. She was sitting on the sofa with her eyes closed, resting. When she heard the door open, she sat up. “Welcome home,” she said, eying him to see what kind of mood he was in. “Did you find the parts you needed?”

Han smiled to reassure her. “Yeah, I had a pretty good day. How did the trade deal go?”

He could see from the way her shoulders relaxed that she was relieved. “It went well. There are a few details that still have to be resolved.” She hurried to add, “but they can figure all that out without me. I’ve got these next few days off.”

“Great!” Han said. “Let’s celebrate by taking it easy tonight.”

Leia raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve been feeling bad about dinner last night, so I wanted to make it up to you.”

Leia gave him a small smile and shook her head slowly. “That’s sweet, Han, but you don’t have to.”

“No, I’d like to. I had a look around the kitchen this morning, and it looks like we’ve got everything you need to make a Smuggler’s Standard.”

Her face was neutral, her voice cautious. “A Smuggler’s Standard?”

“It’s what Chewie and I used to make most nights when we were on our own. I mean, I’ll substitute nuna eggs for the mynock eggs we used to use, and pika root extract tastes a lot like sha-shu sauce. It’ll be great.”

“Well…” She could see how much he wanted to do this for her. “Okay. This is very nice of you.”

“It’s nothing. You just relax and leave the cooking to me. It’s a celebration, after all.” Probably the only kind of celebrating your old husband will manage tonight, he thought as he began to open cabinets and arrange cooking supplies on the counter. He turned on the stove and placed a pan on it to start heating. “We perfected this recipe so that it can’t fail. Quick, simple, cheap, and filling.”

Soon he had the pan sizzling on the stove as he chopped up ingredients and tossed them in, occasionally adding a splash of sauce.

“That actually smells pretty good,” Leia offered.

Han turned his head to give her a cocky grin. “Just wait ‘til you taste it. I’m making it pretty mild tonight, but Chewie, he liked it so spicy you could singe your nosehairs just from sniffing it.”

Han saw Leia frown and look away. _Careful, Solo,_ he chided himself. He busied himself with the pan. “Sorry, I shouldn’t bring that up.” He talked while facing the stove. “And sorry about what I was saying last night, about how we should do more. I agree with what you said. We’ve been through enough.” He paused to taste the food with a wooden spoon, then sprinkled it with pepper. “It’s just, sometimes I get so frustrated, you know? And I can’t help wondering what might have been different.”

“Han,” said Leia, and the pleading tone of her voice made him stop talking immediately and turn around. She wasn’t looking at him, but was looking out the window, watching the distant traffic. “Let’s not talk about that tonight.”

“Yeah. You’re right,” Han agreed. He turned back to the stove, frowning. Pull it together. He turned the heat off and stood, listening to the food pop and crackle. “So how’s Luke doing?”

Leia’s voice was full of relief at the change in topic. “He’s doing well. He found a new holocron that he thinks may be several millennia old.”

“He’s not sure?” Han turned around to see Leia half-smiling, her eyes on the ceiling.

“He hasn’t opened it yet, but he’s been having a great time trying.”

Han allowed himself a laugh, feeling the tension in the room start to ease. “That should keep him busy. We should stop by and visit him sometime. And I’m sure Threepio would be glad to see R2 again.”

Leia turned her smile on Han, and he could feel himself start to melt in that old familiar way. “You may be wondering where Threepio is.”

“It hadn’t crossed my mind,” Han said innocently. He had been afraid to ask, preferring to enjoy the relative calm of having the golden droid anywhere but in their apartment.

“I knew you were due to arrive, so I sent him to get some maintenance. We have the apartment to ourselves for a few days.” Leia got up from the sofa and walked over to the kitchen counter.

Han got two bowls down and started scooping the food into them. “Well, good, because that means this meal is just for the two of us.”

Leia had been reaching for a bowl, but her hand paused. It took Han a moment to realize that he had inadvertently brought her thoughts back to those who were absent from the meal. He could have kicked himself. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Leia waved a hand vaguely and took the bowl. “It’s nothing. Come on, let’s eat. I’m starving and I can’t wait to taste this.”

Han filled two glasses with juice while Leia brought the bowls to the small dining table. The two of them sat across from each other and started eating.

Han waited for Leia to say something, but she chewed slowly and took another bite, then another. “Well, what do you think?” he asked.

“It’s very interesting. Not quite what I was expecting, but it has a lot of flavor.”

Han tried another bite. “It’s a little different from the way Chewie and I used to make it.” They ate a few more bites. “But do you like it?”

“Oh yeah, it’s good,” she said, a little too quickly.

Han stopped eating and watched her. She took a drink from her glass, then tried another bite. Han couldn’t take it any more. “You don’t like it, do you?” he asked with a worried frown.

Leia’s eyebrows raised in sympathy. “Oh, Han, it’s terrible.”

Han’s frown deepened, when suddenly Leia burst out laughing. He stared at her in shock, his feelings of disappointment and injured pride forgotten in her unexpected outburst.

Leia gasped for breath. “I’m sorry. I know you tried.” She wanted to say something more, but she broke out in another round of laughter.

Han found himself laughing too. A tide of relief washed over him, as all him tension, worry, and frustration found release in gales of laughter.

When their merriment subsided, Leia sat and gazed at him, her eyes crinkling with a smile that gently lit up her face. “You really tried,” Leia murmured. “It wasn’t that bad, really.”

“You don’t think so?” Han lifted another spoonful and pretended that he was about to take another bite when Leia let out a shrill “Don’t you dare!” and then the two of them collapsed into another round of laughter, howling until tears ran down their cheeks.

When she finally recovered, Leia stood from the table. “I’m going to order some Nabooian delivery. I hate to waste food, but please dump that in the trash. And don’t you dare eat another bite, or I won’t want to kiss you later.”

That caught Han off guard. He stopped clearing the plates and blinked at her. “So there’s going to be kissing later?”

Leia crossed over to him, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed his cheek. She smiled at him and said nothing, and he could see his playful, alluring princess under the wrinkles and sags. No, he realized, that wasn’t it at all. The signs of age didn’t cover up her beauty, they were a part of it, and she was as beautiful as ever.

He started to think about what the evening might hold. Perhaps he wasn’t quite so old after all.


End file.
